Flying on Broken Wings
by IcarusFalling23
Summary: The war is going on, and little Harry is no where to be found. What happens when Dumbledore finds him, and he's not at all like what they expect? Features:HP/DM, creature Harry. The rewritten, Harry-fied version of my story 'Accidental Animagus.'
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was not like other little boys. He did not like mud, or frogs, or toy cars. He ate all of his vegetables, and his clothing was always immaculate. At least, they had been, before he was taken. After that, there were no more opportunities to play in the mud with other children. After that day, Harry Potter became a shell of the happy little boy that helped his mother in the kitchen while his father worked outside in the barn. After that day, everything changed.

* * *

Little Harry was taken from his new family and brought to a pale man and a snake. The room he was brought to was dark, and he could barely make out the man's features. Strangely enough, the man resembled the scaled reptile next to him more than the men on either side of his throne.

"Tell me, Boy, do you know who I am?" the man asked him. Harry stood there silently, wondering if he would be able to go home soon. He had chores to do, and his family would not like it if he were late. Not that they were his real family anyways. James and Lily. Their names made his chest ache at the mere memory of those happy days. The pale man asked him more questions when Harry didn't answer.

"How old are you, Little One? Would you like to live here with me? To become part of my family?" The man asked him smoothly. His words dripped with honey as he took in the sight of the small, black haired boy before him. Harry could feel the man's hunger for his ability. Harry shook his head slowly and the man's jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth.

"Are you sure? I could bring your family back for you…" he trailed off, smirking to himself as the boy's head shot up. The hope in his eyes almost made the man regret lying to him. _Almost. _After all, what were dark lords for?

* * *

Harry walked to his new room with a guard walking beside him. The man opened the heavy wooden door and ushered him inside without saying anything.

"When will my family get here?" Harry asked him quietly. The man glared at him and shut the door loudly. Harry looked around his room. There was a twin sized bed. a desk with a chair, and not much else. There was a door that led to a small closet, but the room was otherwise bare. He sat down on the edge of the small bed and looked at his hands.

"When will my family get here?" he whispered again.

* * *

Harry continued to ask himself that question for a long time.

* * *

However, even little boys have to grow up one day. Harry grew up during the first siege of Voldemort. Of course, he didn't know there was a siege going on, or that anything was going on outside of his 9 by 8 room, with the door that led to the small closet. Every day, he would read his books about magic, and creatures, and fairy tales, but his own fairy tale never came true. The prince was never rescued from the castle, and Harry remained in his room for a long time.

His hair grew long, not as long as Rapunzel's of course, but to about halfway down his back. His tan skin paled to a glowing white, but through the time in Riddle Manor, he never saw his parents. The man with the snake would tell him that his parents were working for him, and that they would be there to visit him soon. However, every time the snake man promised Harry that he would see them, some incident always came up that demanded their presence. There was no arguing with the snake man; his parents were saving the world, and he should be a good little boy and not complain. At least, that's what the lady with the curly black hair said. She was a little strange, but he didn't see her very often, so that was okay.

Harry mainly stayed in his room. He had no idea that a war was being fought outside of the walls of his 9 by 8 room; and let's not forget the small closet.

* * *

Dumbledore was not a happy man. After the Potters died, he had lost the majority of his fighters. People were fleeing England rather than staying to fight. He might very well have to negotiate one of these days if things continued on the way they were. Little Harry was no where to be found, and the Longbottoms were packing this afternoon. Unless something happened soon, there would not be a Hogwarts left to defend…

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Hey, some of you are probably feeling preeeetty confused right now. This is a rewrite of one of my older stories, 'Accidental Animagus', but rather than original character, Harry Potter is the main character. Voldemort is alive an well, but Lily and James are not so lucky. After their deaths, Harry is passed around multiple foster homes and relatives. One day, he is taken from his relatives, and brought to Voldemort. Voldemort promises Harry that his parents will be there for him soon. Harry has no idea that his parents are dead, so he kept going from house to house, thinking that maybe his parents would be in this one, and they would be happy again. People leaving England is a fun little way for me to keep some of my favorite characters alive, so I worked that in also. As for the Longbottoms, there is no Boy Who Lived. There is no prophecy, and there will not be one. Harry and Neville will continue through their lives with no prophetic warnings hanging over their heads. However, once Dumbles and the Order learn about little Harry, things will be very different. I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do about Voldie, but I'm leaning toward Harry killing him when he finds out his parents are dead, and that Voldemort has been lying to him. Yes, Harry will end up a Hogwarts, but there's all sorts of strange things to happen in the meanwhile. For instance, the timing of the story… Just how old is little Harry and the rest of the Potter family?


	2. note

First and foremost, I am incredibly sorry for the long periods between chapters. **Stories will continue to be updated in the coming future.**

I was diagnosed with a serious medical problem a few months ago, and the medication I take now makes it very hard for me to attach myself to my stories the way that I used to. I had to have sensors hooked up to my head by a neurologist and they discovered that I had been having seizures almost constantly while I was sleeping, and nearly every 10 minutes when I was awake. No one had ever detected it before because I never displayed any outside symptoms beside headaches.

Now the medication that I take essentially makes the electrical connections in my brain run differently, and I'm not used to it yet, even after almost 4 months.

My brain is used to functioning in the most complicated way possible, due to massive amounts of scar tissue. Signals would be sent, get half way to a destination, then be stopped by scar tissue, and have to find an alternate route. The best way to explain my condition is to compare it to someone watching tv, and clicking through the channels rapidly, and not focusing on the picture. I can see what's changing, but I couldn't tell you what I was watching: if it was a sports program, a cooking show, etc. You could ask me what I was doing, and I wouldn't be able to tell you. I would have to look down, and reinterpret what I was doing. Now, with the medication, it forces my brain to slow down and focus on the picture. I'm still not watching the program, but my brain can now interpret what I'm seeing. The only way for me to solve the problem of my seizures is to undergo extensive brain surgery, which is not recommended for my age (18), the location of my scar tissue, or the amount of scar tissue I have (a lot).

I will be on medication for the rest of my life, because I can't have the surgery without a high level of risk. I thank you for your understanding. **All of my stories will continue to be updated when I have time.**


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